


Simmer

by thirium goddess (sweetbabydean)



Series: RK900 Drabbles [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbabydean/pseuds/thirium%20goddess
Summary: Nines will not let your silly insecurities get in the way of him having his way with you.





	Simmer

Nines is like a walking brick house. Thick neck leading down into wide shoulders that make way for a built chest, all the way down to that tapered waist that molds into thicker thighs. _Beefy_, your brain dumbly supplies, _big and strong and_ **_beefy_**. You have no idea what a man like that sees in you, with your hips as wide as the breadth of his shoulders and thighs that could crush a watermelon (if you had any muscle).

Even as those large, large hands curl over your hips and lift you up, you’re torn between whimpering in delight and pushing him away because there’s no way this is happening. You close your eyes and shake your head, but when you open them he’s still there, big and menacing and _oh, so handsome_. The whimper that leaves you then is likely the most embarrassing sound you’ve made all day.

The look on his face tells you he’s amused, one eyebrow raised high and lips pulled into a tiny smirk. “Everything all right, tea cup?”

You’re barely paying his words any attention, eyes too busy trailing over his form hungrily. Your thighs twitch against his hips, hands pressing into your cheeks because you’re so overwhelmed. Your desire for this hunk of android is simmering and quickly rising to a boil. Meeting his eyes makes you shiver and you find yourself unable to look away.

The only thing you can thing to say is, “B-big,” coming out in a stutter.

“Oh, petal, you’ve seen nothing yet,” he drawls, throwing a wink your way.

You blush, pink and red hues kissing the skin of your cheeks and neck. Naturally, your eyes drop to his pelvis, imagining what he could possibly be hiding in those wonderfully fitted black slacks. A lone finger presses against the underside of your chin, tilting your head back up so that your eyes meet again. Butterflies fill your stomach with how intensely the RK gazes at you.

“You needn’t be distracted with wonder, tea cup. By the end of this all, your eyes — as well as your body — will be more than sufficiently acquainted with every aspect of my breadth.”

“Oh god,” you whine, squirming from your place on the counter. This android will be the death of you.

“I prefer Richard and it’s numerous variations. But with where we’re headed, I’ll accept it.”

How can this man be so smug?! And so smooth?! You want the air to swallow you up. How dare he make you ache like this, want like this. You’ve never wanted anything or anyone more than you want him. All six feet and two inches of him are on offer and you are **not** going to pass that up.

“Please,” you whimper, leaning back into the palm that has worked its way around to cup the back of your head. “If you’re okay with this,” you motion to the expanse of your own body, “I want it all, please.”

The RK’s brows furrow, eyes narrowing at your insecurity. He takes a minute to look you over and rather unbiasedly, doesn’t see what you have to be ashamed of. Curves in all the right places, filling the harsh planes of his own body with your soft, rounded edges. He imagines what it’s going to feel like to take you as his own — to lie between those full thighs, cock encased by your slippery cunt. No, there is no disgust registering in his systems for what you have to offer him. Every inch of you is what he plans to devour, your delicious curves and fullness enticing him beyond comprehension.

“Petal,” he sounds hoarse, if that’s even possible for an android. “This inconvenient doubt you have about your physique will cease and desist once I’m through with you. I will _own_ every inch of you — every curve, every dip. You are a bountiful feast, tea cup, and I have been starved much too long.”

It’s not romantic, but Nines has been plenty romantic prior to this moment. All you can do is nod, paralyzed by the sheer amount of desire laced in his molten silver irises. His want is nearly palpable, matching yours tit-for-tat. 

You can’t wait to be consumed by him.


End file.
